The Little Guys are always the Worst
by willowwood
Summary: Angela gets a little help during her first day at the Jeffersonian


**Title:** The Little Guys are always the Worst  
**Author:** willowwood  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** 2096  
**Disclaimer:** The Staff at the Jeffersonian don't belong to me, although I am considering moving into Goodman's old office.  
**Authors Notes: **Dedicated to Callieach for being my Brennan, and with thanks for helping me make this story better than it was.  
**Summary: **Angela gets a little help during her first day at the Jeffersonian

**The Little Guys are always the Worst**

"Caucasian, female, aged approximately five to eight years old" Angela listened intently as her new boss recited the details of her first victim. When the doctor finished, she thrust the skull towards her. "When can you get it back to me?"

"Probably, later this afternoon" Angela replied, hating the way the tone of her voice rose an octave, as though what she was saying was meant to be perceived as a question, and secretly hoping that she sounded more confident than she was feeling right then, apparently she didn't. With an exasperated sigh, Dr Brennan turned away from her, and even though she couldn't see her face, Angela had the faint suspicion that she rolled her eyes.

"I have a meeting at three, so I'll be requiring it before then," she stated matter of factly, pulling off her gloves and throwing them in the trashcan. Whilst her back was still turned, Angela chanced a glance at her watch, it was already 12.30 and she was pretty sure that she'd need longer than 2 and a half hours to get the reconstruction finished, not to mention matched against any of the files in the missing persons database. Nevertheless she needed this job, and it had taken her long enough to get this far. So when she finally looked back up at the forensic anthropologist, only to find the other woman regarding her expectantly, almost challengingly she ignored the sigh that rested on the edge of her lips and nodded. "Yeah, ok then. Sure."

She also avoided pointing out that, according to other people in the lab, Dr Brennan very rarely left the Jeffersonian before 8 o'clock, and therefore she personally couldn't see what the hurry was. Meeting or not she'd still get the I.D before the end of the day. Instead the artist watched as the anthropologist quickly walked away, leaving her on the platform with a skull in her hands.

When the doctor was finally far enough out of earshot, Angela released a defeated sigh. Standing there, holding the skull in one hand, staring into itsempty eye sockets, she wondered, not for the first time, what the hell she was doing standing in the middle of a laboratory, in the middle of Washington D.C, trying to imagine what the face of a young child would look like just from her skull. Letting out a nervous breath she placed the skull back on the table and ran a hand through her hair, trying to get a grip on her racing thoughts. _What the hell was she doing here?_

Too preoccupied with everything that Dr Brennan had been telling her, she hadn't noticed the guy dressed in the standard blue lab coat, with a head of curly brown hair, leaning over the microscope besides her, or how he'd been listening discretely to what the two women had been discussing. After the other woman's departure, he'd apparently expected her to head towards her own sparkling new office, but when she didn't move, he offered her a sideways glance before straightening and regarding her intently. When she still didn't move or acknowledge his presence, her face filled with worry, a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips "She doesn't really expect you to have it finished by 3 o'clock, you know," he began breaking the silence.

At the sound of his voice Angela's head snapped towards him, surprised to find him standing besides her.

"What?" she asked not in the mood to care if she came across as being overly blunt or not.

"Dr Brennan-" he began again, nodding in the direction that the other woman had disappeared "-She knows it'll take you longer than two hours to get the reconstruction finished…..and she probably doesn't have a meeting at three"

"Then why did she tell me that she does?" the artist asked annoyed.

He shrugged, unable to stop his smile from widening slightly "It's the final test," he replied smugly, as though the answer was obvious.

"The final test?" she repeated, looking confused and sounding dubious.

He nodded, indicating towards the skull that now sat in front of them. "Emotional turmoil, combined with increased pressure."

"But, I already thought I'd passed all the tests? Isn't that why she gave me the job?"

"Oh you have, all the official ones anyway - and with flying colours if rumours are anything to go by-" Angela smiled despite herself "-but you see Dr Goodman won't let her use any minor's skulls in the application process, say it's too off putting.…" His flippant tone caused Angela to raise a disbelieving brow, when he noticed this he quickly backtracked. "….and it is. I mean in the time I've worked here, I've seen dozens of people bail once their first kid case shows up, artists, empirical scientists, and any combination there of, and I have to admit that there were some pretty heartless bastards amongst them, believe me." There was a hint of amusement to his voice, as he buried his hands into his pockets and glanced back towards the microscope he'd been working at earlier, considering whether ornot he should actually be doing something.

"But what makes her think I'm going to do the same?" Angela asked, turning to face him, her brow furrowing in thought. At that, her co-worker crossed his arms and moved to lean against his workstation, obviously deciding against the option of work. "Those people. The ones who up and left, were only interested in the science. Virtual reconstructions, computer graphics that sort of thing, they'd stick a couple hundred tissue markers on a skull and feed it through the scanner. Anything to keep themselves as detached as possible from the case, you know, but even that didn't stop them from freaking out and running for the hills when they were holding something this-" he picked up the skull and after looking at it for a moment held it out towards her "-tiny in there hands". Taking it from him, Angela studied it for a moment it' size and lack of weight painfully obvious.

"Seriously, I can't remember the last time I saw one of those-" this time he was nodding towards the sketchpad that was tucked beneath her other arm. "-that's a hell of a lot more personal than just feeding it through some computer scanner, letting programs do all the work." She nodded, well aware that he was simply pointing out the obvious, and knowing that he knew it too.

"Like I said, it happens to all of us eventually; it's just unfortunate that yours happened to show up on your first day." Angela smiled thinly, thinking that it was a lot more than just unfortunate. When he paused, longer than necessary and his voice suddenly lost it's enthusiasm she turned her attention back to face him. "I'd been working here six months before I had to deal with my first one. Three year old Holly Jacobs, stumbled across in the middle of the woods by a couple of newly weds and Brennan did exactly the same thing to me, she wanted me to identify 30 different particulates in just over an hour…" He shook his head as though still not believing what had happened.

"And did you do it?" Angela asked curiously.

He chuckled, his bright blue eyes becoming enormously wide. "No chance….by the time the hour was up I think I'd managed 12 of them, if that, by the time she came back to the lab I was about ready to pack up my things and leave." As he spoke, Angela couldn't help but notice how his left hand slowly moved to his right wrist and he began rubbing it gently, tactfully avoiding the rubber band that was already wrapped around it. When, after a moment, he noticed what was suddenly holding all her attention he quickly re-crossed his arms.

"Look-" he began turning to her once more "-Brennan's not the most socially attentive person in the world, but even she can see that you've got more heart in your little finger than all those chumps had put together."

"I'll take that as a compliment" Angela smiled, feeling herself beginning to relax.

"You should." He smiled. "Brennan knows that the little guys are the worst, even if she doesn't show it half the time and all she wants to do is make sure that you can cope. Make sure that you're alright with all of this…" She followed his gaze to the table in front of them, where the rest of the skeleton lay, spread out, clean and without an identity. _"_Make sure you're not just going to pack up and leave one day." Angela chuckled, deciding against telling him that she couldn't remember ever keeping a job for longer than 3 months. Thankfully, he didn't question the sudden outburst and after a moment simply let out an almost desperate sigh of his own.

"I'd love to be able to tell you that this is one of the worst cases I've had to work on…but I've always believed in not lying to the new girl before she's officially been accepted as part of the team." His voice was once again filled with a contagious enthusiasm, yet the laugh that followed was short lived as once again he turned and continued watching her curiously, a surprisingly comfortable silence growing between them.

"Are you this encouraging to all the new people?" Angela asked, giving him a sideways look.

The man smirked and turned back to the microscope he'd been working at earlier. "Only to the really beautiful ones," he replied simply, suddenly avoiding her gaze. Angela smirked, unable to think of anything to say, so settled for watching him work for a moment. Finally, when he didn't appear to want to say anything else, she took in a determined breath and moved to walk away.

"So what are you going to do?" he called out, straightening up and turning to her once more. Stopping at the edge of the platform Angela turned back to face him, finding herself feeling a lot more confident and more determined than she had since arriving in D.C. Glancing down at the skull she began to visualise what the young girl could have once looked like. "I'm going to give this girl her identity back," she replied.

"Good for you-" he began, his face breaking out in to a large grin "Hey…."

"Angela, Montenegro" she supplied.

"Angela-" He smiled sheepishly. "-If you manage to get that finished before three, how about I treat you to a late lunch? We can…consider it a celebration of you being officially accepted into the geek squad."

Angela smiled "Thanks. Dr….."

"Hodgins, Jack Hodgins" he pointed towards the embroidered name across the front of his lab coat "-but you can call me Jack," he finished.

Angela's smile widened and there was a sudden unmistakable twinkle in her eyes "Thanks…..Hodgins."

At 2.50, whilst on her way back to her office, Brennan stopped by the holographic room. Walking inside, she was only half-surprised to find that it was empty; she was more surprised to find herself feeling disappointed at how the room looked as though it hadn't been worked in at all that day, and that Angela's coat and bag were also missing.

Turning on her heels, she headed out towards the platform to ask Hodgins what time their new forensic artist had made her escape, but she was surprised to find that this too was completely deserted, barring the young girl's skeleton, skull and all.

With a sigh, she carried on towards her office, wondering what the hell she was going to tell Dr Goodman this time and how long it was going to take them to find somebody else who was as talented and as suitable as Angela had been.

It was as she moved to sit behind her desk that she spotted it. A simple line drawing of a little girl with big eyes, curly blonde hair and a smile that was missing a handful of teeth. Besides that lay a missing persons report, the young girl in the photograph almost identical to the one smiling up at her from the portrait. On top of both, of these lay a note, written in a loopy scrawl that she didn't yet recognise:

_Brennan, _

_Gone for a late lunch with Hodgins. Here's that ID you asked me for._

_See you later,_

_Angela._

The forensic anthropologist couldn't help but smile, relieved. She really liked this woman.

**The End**


End file.
